As Bharadvāja, the steadfast sage, sat reflecting in his splendid hermitage, a remarkable visitor arrived. It was a great sage, only sixteen years old but already renowned for his virtues. His name was Kaṭha. Handsome, calm, self-controlled, and the very embodiment of discipline, Kaṭha approached Bharadvāja and bowed with reverence. Bharadvāja, honoring the young Brahmin with due hospitality, inquired about the purpose of his visit. With humility, Kaṭha replied, “I have come as a seeker of knowledge, desiring your audience. Please, grant me what is appropriate.” Bharadvāja responded graciously, “Study whatever you wish—the Purāṇas, Smṛtis, Vedas, and all the many sources of Dharma are open to you.” Kaṭha assured him, “I know all, O wise one. Speak without delay. A disciple who is noble-born, devoted to Dharma, obedient, humble, and learned is attained only through great merit.” He continued, “O Brahmin, teach me, your disciple, who is free from sin, devoted to service, faithful, noble-born, and truthful.” Pleased by his sincerity, Bharadvāja agreed, saying, “So be it,” and imparted all knowledge to Kaṭha. Having received this wisdom, Kaṭha was filled with joy. He addressed his teacher, “I wish to offer you a gift, O teacher, whatever pleases your heart. Speak, even if it is difficult to obtain. I bow to you.” Kaṭha explained, “Even after obtaining knowledge, those who, out of delusion, do not satisfy their teacher, fall to hell for as long as the moon and stars endure.” He then offered, “Accept my sister as your wife, according to proper rites. Live with her with affection—this is the gift I request.” But Bharadvāja replied, “A disciple should always be to the teacher as a brother or a son, and the teacher as a father. How then can this relationship be?” Still, he said, “Do my bidding, which is true; my command is your gift. Remember everything, O Kaṭha, and take Revati with full intent.” Accepting his teacher’s word, Kaṭha took Revati by the hand as she was duly given, and then looked upon her. Together, Kaṭha and Revati worshipped Śaṅkara, the lord of the gods, seeking to please Śiva and to enhance Revati’s beauty. Revati was of incomparable form, with lovely limbs, and water from her consecration flowed upon that spot. That water became, in the Gaṅgā, a river named Revati, renowned for bestowing beauty and good fortune. Again, Kaṭha performed consecration with various kinds of darbha grass to bring about auspicious form, and this became the river Vidarbhā. Whoever bathes with faith at the confluence of Revati and Gaṅgā is freed from all sins and is honored in the world of Viṣṇu. Likewise, whoever bathes with faith at the confluence of Vidarbhā and Gautamī attains both enjoyment and liberation at that very moment. On both banks of these sacred rivers, there are a hundred excellent fords, each removing all sins and bestowing every accomplishment. Among these, on the northern bank of the Gaṅgā, lies Pūrṇatīrtha. It is said that even if a person bathes there unknowingly, he attains auspiciousness. Who can truly describe the greatness of Pūrṇatīrtha, where even the wielder of the discus, Viṣṇu, and the bearer of the trident, Śiva, have themselves been established? Long ago, at the dawn of a kalpa, Dhanvantari, son of Āyuṣ, performed many great sacrifices there, foremost among them the Aśvamedha. After giving many gifts and enjoying abundant pleasures, he realized the limitations of such enjoyments and embraced supreme detachment. Whether on a mountain peak beyond the ocean, on the bank of the Gaṅgā, or in the house of Śiva or Viṣṇu, especially at a holy confluence—all austerities, offerings, and recitations performed there become imperishable. Knowing this, Dhanvantari undertook great austerity at the confluence of the Gaṅgā and the ocean, taking refuge at the feet of Bhīmeśa. In ancient times, a mighty demon, defeated in battle by a king, had hidden in the ocean for a thousand years out of fear. When Dhanvantari entered the forest, his son inherited the kingdom, and when the king became detached, the demon finally left the ocean. While Dhanvantari performed austerities on the bank of the Gaṅgā, a powerful demon named Tama sought refuge there. Dhanvantari, ever devoted to recitation, offering, and the knowledge of Brahman, resolved to destroy this enemy. Tama, having departed from the ocean, was determined to challenge him. By his magical power, Tama assumed the form of a beautiful woman. She approached the king, singing and dancing, her laughter and beauty captivating all who beheld her. Seeing her, calm, devoted, and faithful, the king spoke with compassion, “Who are you? Why do you dwell in this dense forest? Whom have you seen that you are so delighted? Tell me, O auspicious one.” The woman replied, “While you are present, what other cause for my joy could there be in the world? I am the fortune of Indra; seeing you, I am filled with desire. Out of joy I move before you again and again, O King, but due to the absence of countless merits, I am difficult for all to attain.” Hearing her words, the king was overcome. He swiftly abandoned his difficult austerity, his mind now fixed upon her alone, devoted and intent upon her presence.